


And They Said The Sun Would Rise

by quwinto



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 01:35:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1369093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quwinto/pseuds/quwinto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The stories of priests were not rare, forbidden, whispered lore on Vulcan. All children were told stories of when every Vulcan worshiped the goddess of peace, Utan’es; how she was sought for advice, how her priests are healers of the rarest and highest caliber.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of and dedicated to Mary's amazing artwork and ideas she shared with me.  
> (Will in no way be updated on any type of schedule.  
> I'm not entire sure exactly where I want this go in terms of relationships, hence the tags, so bear with me. They'll be updated as the story develops.)

Leonard McCoy never expected to end up anywhere other than Earth. Vulcan, with its harsh sunlight and arid land, were a far cry from his familiar farm in Georgia. He should have expected that his skills as one of Starfleet’s best doctors would bring him to other planets.

Recently, a virus had begun to spread from child to child in the cities. As they succumbed, the illness crept into their vascular systems, corrupting their tissues and shutting down their organs in such rapid succession that proper burials became few and far between.

Leonard, among many other scientists and doctors, was sent by Starfleet under the orders of the Federation to find where the virus originated, develop a cure, and ease all those who were dying. 

————————————

The stories of priests were not rare, forbidden, whispered lore on Vulcan. All children were told stories of when every Vulcan worshiped the goddess of peace, Utan’es; how she was sought for advice, how her priests are healers of the rarest and highest caliber. The children know that priests still exist and carry on Vulcan’s old traditions while embracing the Principles of Surak.

Most live in small villages only a few kilometers from the outskirts of cities. Their homes are modest as the people within, and made of stone. In the center of any priests’ village there is a temple built for the worship of Utan’es. Priests do not worship in groups; they are all solitary beings. Each is on their own path to give counsel and healing to those who seek it. Utan’es guides any wonderer to the priest that will know the answer to their questions.

Sarek taught his son about Utan’es as soon as Spock could understand him. He spoke of her wisdom and unerring compassion to the quiet half Vulcan. And Spock drank it all in, silently asking for more stories of how her counsel helped Surak create his Principles or how a priest of her’s had healed a seemingly incurable plague. 

It was no surprise to Amanda or Sarek when Spock informed them of his decision to leave their home and travel to the nearest village to become a priest of Utan’es.

Their consent was granted immediately; his parents were understanding that, as a half Vulcan, Spock would never be accepted by the majority of the planet’s population. Solitude was most likely the best way for him to remain on Vulcan.


	2. Chapter 2

The hastily built structures are a blur of sighs and low voices. Doctors and scientists scurry about, asking patients to describe their symptoms, writing on padds as the lethargic children speak. Leonard reaches instinctively for his cup of coffee, only to remember that he finished it earlier when his hand meets empty space. He braces one palm against the table and stands more fully, trying to will energy into his bones. The doctor walks out into the harsh sunlight, padd in hand, pausing before he enters another one of the new buildings. He sighs, and squints at figures approaching the structure he has to begin his rounds on.

_Either the sun is making my eyes play tricks on me, or I’m just too sleep deprived to be standing up straight._

One of the silhouettes is a distinctly smaller shape, most likely wrapped in some form of clothing that a human would die from heat stroke in if worn in the desert. The two—no, three?—Vulcans enter the makeshift hospital. Leonard shakes himself; maybe another cup of coffee is necessary.

It’s easier to see when, out of the sun’s glaring rays, and the country doctor can see who the newcomers are. Clearly adults, they look out of place compared to all of the bunks filled with children. Two of them are dressed in the simple clothes that Vulcans don. The third, smaller than the others, is completely covered in a layers of purple cloth that resembles a long cloak. The hood shadows the wearer’s face as they kneel next to the bed and shift the large sleeves from their hands before resting them on the child’s skin, one over her heart and the other over her forehead.

Leonard forces himself to stop looking and begins his rounds, giving different children different mixes of herbs and medicine. So far, no mix of Vulcan or Earth substances have managed to even dim the virus’s effects.

————————————

Spock pulls his hands away from the child and back into his robes as he stands and faces the silent parents, identifying an undercurrent of fear for their child in their posture and expressions. In a low voice he begins to speak, carefully selecting each word.

"It would appear that what afflicts these children is a single entity splitting itself to invade hosts. I will remain here and assist in research and easing the pain. If any change occurs, you will be contacted immediately. I regret that I cannot heal this on my own." He dips his head solemnly.

"I pray that Utan’es will respond with her wisdom soon."

————————————

Despite living on Vulcan for three Standard weeks, Leonard is still not used to the sound of the language. To the doctor, it is a stream of sounds that can be alternately harsh and smooth as velvet.

The murmured conversation held between the three newcomers is quiet and brief. The ‘normal’ Vulcans exit the building, leaving the suffocating silence of dying beings to take over the room once more. Leonard watches in his peripheral vision the other person kneel next to the bed and bow their head.

The doctor ignores the silent Vulcan and continues his rounds, ticking off each concoction that is not altering or relieving the virus (all of them). The work is monotonous until he reaches the bed where the Vulcan is still sitting.

Leonard shifts his grip on the padd and briefly considers trying to step around the kneeling figure. This idea is quickly shot down when the Vulcan stands and faces the silent doctor, the hood’s peak barely reaching Leonard’s eyebrows. Those slim hands emerge from the sleeves again and pull back the heavy material, allowing it to fall back onto his shoulders.

The blue eyed Terran meets a steady, dark gaze from a face framed in long black hair. He means to apologize for disrupting the Vulcan but a velvet toned voice beats him to the party.

"I believe I realized too belatedly that I would be in your proverbial and literal way, doctor."

Leonard blinks, working the words over in his mind.

Definitely need more coffee.

"Nah, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to disturb you."

"No actions of yours have impeded my prayers. To explain what your motives were not is unnecessary."

"I—Are you going to be staying for a while?"

Now it is the Vulcan’s turn to blink once, betraying just a semblance of confusion at the quick change in conversation. Leonard narrows his eyes for a split second in thought; never seen a Vulcan do anything like that before.

"My presence was requested by a family and asked of me to heal what ails their child. I will be studying the disease and healing as many children as I can."

Now Leonard allows his entire face to betray confusion and curiosity. He’s wearing scrubs or what the Vulcan doctors wear though—

"Who are you, exactly?"

The little Vulcan’s posture shifts just barely, his chin raising and spine straightening.

"I am a priest of Utan’es; my name is S’chn T’gai Spohk. I am a healer. Those seeking the goddess’s aid contact her through priests and this girl’s family came to me."

"So you’re here to research and cure the disease?"

"In simplest terms, yes, that is my purpose for the time being."

A lull in the conversation appears then, both persons unsure of what to say next.

"Well, I’ll be seeing you around then. If you need anything, I’m pretty much always on shift."

If Leonard hadn’t been on Vulcan lately, he would have missed the subtle flash of surprise in the deep brown eyes. He continued his rounds, speaking in a low voice to patients.


	3. Chapter 3

A friendship between the two solitary healers continues on from there. It grows in small ways, like Leonard getting instruments and herbs down from high shelves that Spock can’t reach. It shows when Spock tells Leonard the stories that Sarek told the priest as a child. It grows when bruises start appearing on afflicted children and Spock is trying to heal all of them so unnecessary pain does not occur. Their relationship betters when Leonard finally forces Spock to start resting more regularly. Spock’s gratitude shows and Leonard learns how to read the priest more easily. Leonard teaches Spock about snow and lakes and oceans and rivers and hurricanes. He speaks of Joanna and how much he loves and misses her. The pair of them work late into nights, trying to ease children’s suffering and figure out the cause of the disease. Spock discovers that it seems to originate off planet; that it resembles nothing that could survive on its own in the Vulcan climate. The Terran doctor determines it to be a bacterial infection rather than a virus. Through this time of darkness and death, Leonard and Spock find their own lanterns of hope within each other.

And then there’s a breakthrough. It’s early, too early, disgustingly early, but worth it. Leonard is studying a tissue pulled from one child’s stomach and that’s when he knows. 

Then he’s shaking Spock awake on the cot where he fell asleep and whispering excitedly.

"Spock, Spock! I know what it is! It took so long because it looks a bit different but I know what the bacteria is!"

And Spock would sit up and his eyes would gleam and he’d immediately be ready to start formulating a cure, only that’s not what occurs. Spock burrows deeper into the bed and his breathing is shallow, mirroring how the first children reacted to the virus.

"Shit, no. Hey darlin’, wake up don’t do this to me. I’ve got everything figured out, I just need to make the vaccine, you shouldn’t be ill, it only affects children."

Spock’s eyes open belatedly, and he opens his mouth to speak, his voice softer than it’s usual confident tone.

"My health would appear to have deteriorated due to a form of what afflicts the children—"

"—But it’s alright, Spock, I just need to go to Earth and get the antibodies that’ll destroy the bacteria." 

He’s smoothing back the priest’s long hair, trying to prevent his hands from shaking. Oh god, Spock, you can’t die on me you’re my friend I won’t let you—

"Then it is imperative for you to return to your planet and,"—his eyelids are closing, the bacteria already stealing energy from his bones, and all Leonard can think is no—

"And return with the vaccine. Make haste, Leonard."

"I can’t just leave you here, darlin—"

"It would be more detrimental to relocate me."

"But I’d be leaving you alone, Spock. I’m not going to do that—"

"I have utmost trust in the certainty of your quick return."

Leonard’s gaze darts over Spock’s tired face, worry openly etched into the doctor’s features. He pulls down the heavy sleeve of the priest’s robe and fishes a his other hand into his pocket. His normally precise hands shaking, Leonard secures a worn red ribbon around Spock’s wrist in a simple bow.

"This is my promise. I’l be back before you know it, alright? Make sure someone takes care of you. Are your parents in the city?"

"My mother and father live in the suburban region of the city, yes, but I would not burden them with my care. I am able to look after myself, Leonard—"

"No, you aren’t. You need someone to make sure you eat and rest. I won’t have you dying before I get back. Don’t lose that ribbon, either. It used to be Jo’s. You’re important to me like I how I told you she is."

"Doctor, I will be alright on my own." 

Leonard grits his teeth, pushing back waves of frustration in favor of dealing with the problem at hand.

"No, Spock, you won’t. You’ll be exhausted and shaky and too tired to eat unless someone feeds you. You’ll develop bruises that make you want to move even less. I can’t just let you die. Either arrange for someone to get you to your parents’ home, or I’m going to carry you there right now."

"I…I would appreciate if you assisted in providing transport, as I have no way of communicating with my parents or a third party to provide such means of transportation."

————————————

"For such a small person, you’re surprisingly heavy. What do you hide under that robe? Rocks?"

Leonard craned his neck back to find that the Vulcan was asleep, barely audible humming that edged on purrs coming from where his face was pressed into the doctor’s shoulder. 

It’s by pure luck that Spock’s parents live barely a kilometer from the makeshift hospitals that house the children. He shifts Spock, hefting the priest’s small legs farther up his sides before leaning forward to knock on the door. 

He’s not exactly taken aback, more mildly surprised when an obviously human woman opens the door. So surprised that he just gapes for a moment before the woman’s politely curious gaze brings him back to the present.

"I’m sorry it’s late, ma’am, but I—your son—Spock needs somewhere to stay while I go back to Earth. He just fell ill with the epidemic and I—he needs to be cared for and he told me where you and your husband live ma’am and that you might be able to watch over him—"

Leonard breaks off, realizing he’s rambling and the woman has opened the door more so he can come in.

"I—uh, thank you ma’am."

She allows him a small smile and closes the door behind Leonard. In the silence, he shifts Spock again, conscious of the woman’s kind gaze. 

"So, uh, as I was saying, ma’am, I was hoping—Spock said that you and your husband might be willing to take care of him while I’m gone since he doesn’t really—or he seems to—he didn’t mention anybody friends or other family and I just—I hope it can work out, ma’am."

And for the first time, the lady speaks.

"Of course it can, Doctor…?"

"McCoy, ma’am. Leonard McCoy. I’m here with Starfleet to research the epidemic. And I’ve found a cure. But it’s like I said, with Spock getting sick now and I have to go back—"

"Worry not; Sarek and I will take care of our son. I trust that you will return swiftly?"

Leonard meets Spock’s mother’s gaze and really looks at her for the first time. Her gaze is soft and trusting with an undercurrent of concern when her sight slides to where Spock is asleep on the doctor’s back.

"I’ll be back as soon as possible. I just gotta get a lot of the cure and it’s just a couple different antibiotics which I should be able to get from—" He’s rambling again, he realizes as Spock’s mother leads him into a room and helps him arrange Spock on the bed. He fumbles with Spock’s heavy sleeve a moment to check if the ribbon is still secure—it is—before standing. 

"I can;t say thank you enough, ma’am, I—"

"Amanda; call me Amanda please, Leonard."

"I—Thank you, Amanda. Please thank your husband for me."


	4. Chapter 4

_Aviophobia is nothing compared to the fear of losing someone planets away to some shitty disease,_  Leonard thinks bitterly as he boards the vessel bound for Earth.

————————————

_Antibodies take too long to grow._

————————————

Barely two weeks have passed and Leonard finally has a surplus of the cure.

He's getting ready to leave for Vulcan when Jim comes crashing into his apartment, his usual whirlwind self.

"Bones,  _holy shit,_  Pike is grabbing people like crazy for an emergency mission to Vulcan." 

Every part of Leonard wants to simultaneously tense and jerk at the last word. He schools his expression and faces his friend.

"Why? What's the occasion?"

The blonde bounces on the balls of his feet, excitement barely contained.

"Something to do with Romulans. I don''t really know anything else."

"Good luck to ya, kid. Don't die."

"They'll probably need a doctor, and you need to go to Vulcan anyway, right? Ask Pike to let you go with us!"

"No, Jim; I'm not going on a mission. I'm going to instill a plague cure and save a friend's life."   
Leonard is tight-lipped and his shoulders are strung tight. 

_What if it's an attack? What if I don't get back before something bad happens?_

"C'mon, Bones. It's starship experience  _and_ passage to Vulcan. Plus you get me coming with you."

————————————

_Don't puke, don't fucking puke, you'll be there soon, just calm the fuck down._

————————————

_It's not supposed to be like this._

Leonard is on Vulcan's surface, running across the sandy grounds, yelling into a communicator. 

He was supposed to be spreading and administering the plague's cure, not running through crowds looking for a priest. 

Vulcans are pouring through any open space, filling shuttles and waiting for more. Leonard is the only one sprinting, trying to remember where Spock's parents' house is. He nearly slams into a good amount of people before getting to the door he remembers and opening it, formalities be damned. 

\-----------------------------

Spock regrets burdening his parents with himself. He tells himself that they do not deserve the stress. He was a problem from the beginning and his end will be a relief to all. Amanda is all soft eyes and rounded edges, feeding him carefully and making sure not to touch the bruises. Sarek speaks with Spock, making sure his mental state is not deteriorating. It's his unspoken way of caring.

Spock can feel the illness corrupting his vascular system, his immune system fighting back in vain.

————————————

The house is empty. Leonard tears through each room, checking because  _he has to be sure._

Then he's back out in the glaring sunlight;  _think, think, think._

_If you were a sick priest who's about to be destroyed, where would you go?_

————————————

It took an inordinate amount of effort for him to walk to the temple. 

The struggle was worth the ability to kneel down in front of the modest statue of Utan'es and bow his head in prayer. It didn't matter that his breathing was shallow and his vision spinning. He could not be a burden to anyone anymore. 

————————————

Respecting cultures had always been something Leonard had to constantly remind himself to do. It was farthest from his mind when he pushed through crowds to the temple on the outskirts of the city. 

_If he's not there..._

The doctor slammed open the small door and heard his heart pound as his feet smacked against the floor. 

"Spock, you idiot, you absolute dumbass, why didn't you stay with your parents we have to leave now, right now, come on, come on."

He's choking back sobs at the sight of the priest, his priest, and grabbing Spock's shoulders and pulling him up from a kneeling position.

"Leonard? I ... did not expect you to ... find ... I am overridden with fatigue Leonard..." 

"I know, I know, darlin'. We have to get to a shuttle. You're not safe."

"I am with ... Utan'es, Leonard. I am as safe as ... one could be."

"No you aren't."

The doctor hefts Spock into his arms and then he's running again. Through the heavy doors into the sunlight and confusion. His communicator flips open easily in his shaking hands as he requests to be beamed aboard.

He sinks down to the floor in the transport room, holding Spock to his chest, his face in the priest's hair.

No one actually sees him cry, but Spock feels Leonard's steady hands shake.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a while.  
> Yes, I skipped around in terms of time passing. I'm playing around with whether or not to give definite measures of time.  
> This is not dialogue heavy by any measure. The angst tag really comes into play as well. I know it's shorter than the other chapters but I'm getting back into this story after months.  
> Thank you for reading/commenting/giving kudos.  
> Unbeta'd.

Spock feels the exact moment that Vulcan is destroyed.

His mother, his father, I-Chaya; their swirls of red-pink warmth and love disappear from his mind with the sensation of an electric snap. Their sharp absence affects Spock as he’s still trapped in Leonard’s embrace. He jerks, head tilting back and his breathing shortens. Telepathic shock from bond breakage, the still functioning logical part of his brain assess as the rest goes into distress. He’s shaking, dry sobs wracking his body and rasping from his throat as he presses closer to Leonard, needing physical contact to ground him.

The surface bond that formed between them is only a flicker of soft purple, friendship and comfort uncurling as he tries to escape from his own body and into Leonard’s. 

“Darlin’?” 

It’s whispered into the crown of his head, and all Spock can do is try to square his shoulders to beat away the shivers. 

“Spock, I’m gonna bring you to sickbay. We’ll get the you cure. It’s gonna be alright.”

It isn’t. It isn’t okay, everything is cracked and ripped apart and dying and he’s not sure he can heal it all. 

“I’m gonna stand up now, Spock. I’ll carry you. Okay?”

He’s shaking too much to manage a nod and instead closes his eyes and presses his head further into the doctor’s chest as he chokes on a sob.

————————————

The sickbay is loud.

Loud and bright.

The hypospray stings and he feels nothing.

————————————

Spock stares listlessly as McCoy brushes his fingers through tangles in the priest's hair.  

Time is no perceived as days and nights by the half Vulcan, he sees only blurs and hears the slurring of voices mixing. Leonard is a constant presence, never too far for too long. Spock finds himself wearing large blue shirts when he stumbles out of bed to dry heave and finds large calloused hands gripping his shoulders and a warm torso on his back. 

Everything tastes like ashes. Cold creeps into his bones and settles there. The air smells filtered and there are no temples to pray in. 

There is no one to bury. No one plays a dirge for the dead. 

There is only the terrible weight of loss. 

The word cuts at Spock when he is coherent enough to think.

————————————

Spock cuts his hair. 

The doctor comes back from a shift to find long chunks of black hair on the floor and the priest with a choppy bowl cut, carefully holding a pair of scissors. He tilts them one way, one hand holding the blades, then the other, watching as the dull lights of the cabin make the metal gleam.

"It is a traditional show of mourning."

The doctor nods, heart in his throat, and kneels on the floor in front of Spock. He maneuvers the scissors out of the priest's pale fingers and pulls him forward into an embrace.

"I'll clean up, alright?"

They stay like that.


End file.
